The Works of Kelly Kuerzi 

Kelly Kuerzi is a writer/poet/activist from New Jersey. She has helped tutor inner-city children as part of various Americorps volunteer programs. Her work draws on themes of poverty and life on the streets and often consist of commentaries on the dynamics of abusive relationships.

All Poems © Kelly Kuerzi

Mind/Matter Trilogy 

1. Mind or Matter


The mind is a sickness

That intoxicates the heart

Reason or

Rationality

Cannot stand alone

Or

Like a virus

Will devour

All it touches

The heat of passion

Is a symptom

Of rapid reason

That the heart

Cannot

Cure


2. Mind or Matter (Companion)


The heart is a weight

That crushes the mind

Passion

Love And

Devotion

Stand alone

Dragging

To the depths

And drowning

The last breaths

Of reason

Flooded

By fatal emotion


3. Mind and Matter


Radical

But

Harmonious

Is the jagged ambition

Of a balance

Between

The freezing poles

Of the heart


And mind

Reaching an overheated passion

At the center



Deluxe


Two eyes never held such sadness. Tears are not needed to melt into each other. We let go with all we had left to hold on. Laughter never seemed closer then now, but nothing has ever been so far away. Souls collapse with every contact. Shadows flutter when we look away. I cling onto this moment forever. Ours lips touched one last time. I saw you stumble over the fence, the place you cut your hand. Your hips swayed back and forth like the tire swing beneath the leaves. The bark contrasts to your soft skin and yet I fade into both. Headlights glare through the midnight scene as much as compassion shines through the darkness. The gong is heard again and again, as I breathe in your heartbeat. Never have I felt something so big as this. I watch you drive away into the grey sky and on Saturday it rains. I close my eyes and float away. Nothing is as warm as our hug on that freezing January night. I count my crows and we last forever. We fluster, we fever, we fear, what’s nothing is everything and don’t you deny it. You felt me shake and I felt you heave. I don’t like the way you click on each desire. Who clicks better then we do?

The only thing deluxe is the silent tone of the telephone. The only thing deluxe is holding hands in spring time. The only thing deluxe is the best I’ll ever be. The only times we rhyme is when we don’t try to be right. Nothing is as right as when everything goes wrong. Intimacy starts up the car, but we never drive away together. We have sinned where the childish aggressions laugh and play. We cuddle and everything is all right. We laugh aloud at what we both lost years ago. You reach out and I giggle and turn away. I reach out and your silence freezes my blood. You throw me n the bleachers, the stairs, her bed, her couch, your car, his couch, his chair, his bathroom, your couch, your floor, your basement, his hall, his refrigerator, his floor, my bed, the swing, the tree and I tackle you with passion. The chatter does not bury the intimidation. You bench press my body and tickle every tear. I throw the baseball, but your mitt misses the hint. I guess that’s why you’re always up to bat. It’s been years since I’ve run barefoot down this murky road. We’ll never understand. I sink into your skin, the music warms my veins, your lips give me life. Our love searches like your hands under the covers on another cold winter night.